The Hardest Thing
by Corinne Marie
Summary: How do you ask a man for permission to marry his only daughter? One-shot. Neville/Hannah. Written for the "The Question" challenge by My Lady Jes. Enjoy!


**A/N: Wow, I can't believe I got this done so fast. This has not been beta'd, just so you know, and if anyone catches a mistake, I would love to know, although I think I caught everything. Anyways, I hope you enjoy. Neville/Hannah, written for My Lady Jes's "The Question" Challenge.**

**Disclaimer:I do not own anything Harry Potter. **

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I can't believe I'm doing this.

I _can't_ do this.

Yes I can. Just ring the doorbell, Neville, it isn't that hard.

But it really is. How can you just walk into someone's house and tell them you want to marry their daughter? This is the most difficult thing I've ever done. Not that I've done it yet. I mentally kick myself for insisting, even just to myself, that I follow such an outdated formality. There are butterflies flying around in my stomach.

I take a deep breath. It's now or never. I ring the doorbell before I can change my mind.

Here's the part I wasn't expecting. Hannah's home. And she's the one that opens the door.

"Well, hello there Neville. What are you doing here?" she asks, leaning out the door, smiling at me, and I can feel my heart melting. But I somehow manage to keep my resolve.

"I came to see your father, actually," I say, smiling in return.

She laughs, and it makes my heart flutter. "Come on in, then," she said, opening the door all the way. I lean down to kiss her as I walk into her house, about to do the most terrifying thing ever. And if I'm going to do that, I may as well have some kind of moral support. "I have to go find him. You can wait in the sitting room, if you want."

I had only been in her house once, and when I was here, I had only seen the kitchen, as we were in a hurry and she was only telling her father where we were going and when we'd be back.

The sitting room is very pretty. It seems like the place that they spend the most time, although it is entirely full of plants and picture frames. There are two chairs and a couch, with a wireless sitting on a table in the middle of it all, surrounded by pictures. I look closely at one of them, seeing a woman that looks a lot like Hannah chasing a very little Hannah around a table. She catches her and spins her around once before she turns both of them so that they are smiling directly at the camera. Another picture is so still it could almost be a Muggle photograph. A young Hannah, probably around 6 or 7, is asleep in her father's lap, and he is stroking her hair. I smile at the pictures, noticing dozens more like them. I suddenly wish there was at least one of me here, so that I wouldn't feel so out of place.

"They look a lot alike, don't they?" I hear from behind me, and I turn around quickly to see her father standing there. "And they were so close." His voice is full of emotion, and I nod, unsure of what I could say. Nothing seems like it is enough to comfort him after what had happened to his wife. We stand in silence for a long time.

"So, Hannah said you wanted to talk to me," he says, after regaining his composure and sitting in one of the chairs I noticed earlier. Oh, yes, back to the task at hand.

"I do, actually." Why am I suddenly sweating? This shouldn't be this hard. And why can't I think of what to say?

"Well, spit it out." He looks amused rather than angry. It just makes me more nervous. I'm suddenly even more worried that I'm going to mess this up.

"Um, well, as you know, Hannah and I have been dating for awhile...and, um, I really really like her. No, that isn't it. Mr. Abbott, I love your daughter more than anything else in the world. I can't imagine ever being without her. And I came here today to ask you if, um, well, I wanted to ask you for your permission...before I asked her to marry me." I stop myself, afraid that I'm starting to babble. I'm looking at him uncertainly, watching his expression change from amused to...I can't even tell what. It looks like a confused kind of serious, with a bit of curiosity thrown in.

"I appreciate that you came to ask me," he says, slowly, practically chewing his words before saying them. "But really, I can't make this kind of decision."

My face falls. This was my biggest fear of course. He is going to say no, that I'm not worthy of his daughter. And a few years ago, I would never have even come here for fear that that would happen.

"I'm not saying no," he says, no doubt noticing the look on my face, and I feel hopeful again in spite of myself. "I'm just saying it isn't my decision. Who am I to tell you that you can marry my daughter? See, it's Hannah you need to ask. If she says yes, you have my blessing." I practically jump for joy, but I contain myself.

"Thank you so much, sir!" I'm excited now, and I stand up, ready to go find Hannah right now and ask her. And then I realize I don't know where she is.

"The garden," he father says, reading my mind. I remember that the door in the kitchen leads to the garden. I do my best not to run.

The sun is shining on her beautiful blond hair, that's the first thing I notice. She is lying down in a flower bed, examining the flowers closely. I could probably give the scientific name and the specific properties of each and every one of the flowers in this garden, and if I was with anyone else, I probably would. Since it's her, though I simply smile and walk over to her, sitting down right behind her. I'm sure she notices, but she doesn't move. So I take a moment to examine her.

Hannah is probably the most beautiful person I know. I watch her hands as they touch the soft flower petals in front of her and wonder how I found someone so wonderful, so perfect. I love everything about her. I love how she is so easily flustered, I love her fierce loyalty, and I love that she's so gullible. I watch her for a few more minutes. She is humming a song I don't recognize. Finally I reach forward and touch her shoulder, and she turns towards me, a cute smile on her face.

"I just had a lovely chat with your father," I say, an entirely different sort of butterfly effect happening in my stomach now, looking into her dark eyes, knowing what I'm about to ask.

She raises her eyebrows at me, and I smile wider.

"Well, as it just so happens, we were talking about you."

"Get to the point, Neville," she says, and then bites her lip softly. I can't resist. I lean forward and kiss her. She kisses me back, but pulls away quickly.

"Marry me," I whisper, her lips still just centimeters away from mine. She giggles, a beautiful sound, and she kisses me lightly again.

"Of course," she whispers, and then giggles again when I pull the ring out of my pocket and slip it on to her finger. "You didn't think I'd say no, did you?" I don't get to answer, though, as she immediately kisses me again, and this time, we don't stop for a long while.

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**A/N: So, good? Bad? Completely out of character? Please review, I'm always up for corrections or compliments.**


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